Walking Through a Dead Center
by ChuckNorris'ssister
Summary: The infection has spread across the US. Hundreds torn apart by viscous, animalistic people. Only four people, strangers, brought together by a twist of fate, are immune. They've been deserted. Abandoned. Left for dead. Now they must fight their way through the hordes in order to survive.


We had just been deserted by our rescue helicopters, standing on the roof of a hotel and calling out for them to come back.

They didn't.

Three others, four including myself, had also been left behind, so we all decided that we should get to the evac center across town.

Gunshots occasionally fired off in the streets below, and we'd sometimes glance toward the sound, wondering why and how our lives have come to this.

I had grabbed an axe, and went down the stairs to open the door. When I did, nothing happened. Then I realized that the door could be locked. Swinging the axe with all my might, I managed to break down the door in a couple of swings.

I'm not sure what I expected. So many thoughts running through my head and not a single word could begin to explain them.

The flu had been such a tiny little thing, but it had mutated so much so fast that the government was scrambling to get it under control.

People.

People who had families and friends and boyfriends or girlfriends, all reduced to vicious, foul smelling, cannibalistic monsters with no sense of self preservation.

They stood there, mindlessly stumbling without knowing where to go, until they eventually noticed us.

They growled and hissed at us, before flinging themselves in attempts to kill. A man, or rather, the bloody and infected shell of a man sprinted to me, as I was the first person to be seen.

Without thinking, I swung.

A horrible looking gash ripped into the man's flesh as the axe traveled across his chest. A wet squelch was made as the body fell to the floor.

I did it.

I had just killed a person.

And you know what?

I couldn't bring myself to care. Whoever these people used to be aren't here anymore.

"Holy shit, zombies are real. Ah' knew them books was non-fiction!" We continued to slaughter our way through, a raging fire starting to spread within the building.

The stairs were blocked, so we searched around for an exit.

"Hey! This elevator's still working!" I called out.

"Thank the lord! I am not running down thirty flights of Goddamn stairs again."

The older black man heaved. He sounded like he lived nearby.

"Just so you know, I'm not legally allowed to own a gun. Hope you don't mind."

The middle aged man in a white suit spoke, grabbing a magnum.

A woman, probably in her mid-twenties, had grabbed some sorta bottle filled with a green liquid and a baseball bat.

"Oh, This better not be what I think it is."

Knowing our luck so far, it probably was. "A jar is no place fer' bodily functions." I frowned.

We piled into the elevator, closed it, and pushed the button for first floor.

The girl spoke again. "Hey. My name's Rochelle. You?" Rochelle introduced herself.

"My friends call me Coach. I guess you can do the same." Coach, the older man, breathed.

"It's Nick. Don't bother remembering, because I'm not sticking around long." Nick shifted, cradling his magnum. "Let's stick together a little while longer, Nick. Safety in numbers." Coach coaxed. He turned his attention to me. "Now, what's your name boy?" He asked me.

"Ellis. M'name's Ellis. Some people call me El but Ah prefer Ellis cuz' El sounds like a girls name, but y'all can call me El if you want.. Sorry, Ah tend ta ramble when Ah'm nervous." I apologized, feeling awkward.

As the elevator gradually got closer to ground floor, it slowly filled up with smoke.

Suddenly, the elevator lights flickered before shutting off altogether. "Godammit, the elevator's stuck! We'll have ta pry it open if we wanna leave." Coach groaned.

I went to the doors, axe in hand, ready to pry the damn thing open. It was surprisingly easy to open, although it made a sharp screeching noise.

"Ah' 'ave a feelin' this isn't gonna go unnoticed." I coughed, straining my eyes through the smoke.

The fire that had been spreading on the top floor had started on the first floor, and had completely engulfed the area. Thick clouds of black smoke clouded our vision, making it difficult to see each other.

The heat was suffocating, and growing worse by the second. I squinted through the smoke, seeing a gun. "Lookie here! Guns!' I called. Coach grabbed one and started mowing down zombies, leaving none standing.

As we moved through the fire engulfed building, our luck seemed to have improved a bit, as we were able to find other supplies. I went into a small room, and found chrome shotguns.

"Finally! A gun Ah know how ta shoot!" I whooped, grabbing the shotty and pumping out shots, killing infected by the dozen. I then noticed a small white bottle sitting on the table. It said pain pills, so I hesitantly grabbed them, just in case. "Grabbin' pills."

We made our way through the burning hotel, encountering zombies along the way. We managed to weave through the walls of fire through the kitchen, then after we fought a horde, marched through the lobby and out the main entrance.

Weak from the lack of oxygen, we stumbled into a safe room across the hall from the entrance, the red metal door seeming like an absolute godsend. Quickly taking care of the common infected, we managed to stumble into the safe room, shove a file cabinet in front of the door, and collapse on the floor in relief.

We began to laugh, the stress of the possibility that we could have died and the fact we survived it seeming like pure dumb luck, but at this point we couldn't give a flying fuck about it.

After a few minutes of us laughing like a couple of morons, I whooped out, "We are the kings of the world! If we can survive a hell like that, we can survive anything!"

"Overalls has a point. We are walking through the valley of death and kicking ass!" Nick agreed.

"Well, I guess you're right. Take that you infected bunch of assholes!" Rochelle piped in, throwing up her middle fingers towards the blocked door.

Coach sighed. "Alright alright, we did it, I'll give us that. But what's the plan for tomorrow?" He prompted, taking in our silence. "Ooh! There's a gun store a few blocks from 'ere, we can stop there on the way to the mall!" I suggested, beaming proudly at the grins the idea got.

"Okay then. We head over to the gun store, take whatever guns we want, head to the Evac center in the mall, an' we get the hell outta dodge. But till then, we should get some rest." Coach decided, laying down where he sat.

"Goodnight y'all." Coach whispered.

"Goodnight everyone." Rochelle yawned, having found a sleeping bag.

"Yeah, yeah, goodnight and all that." Nick mumbled, crawling onto a chair.

"Goodnight Coach, goodnight Ro, goodnight Nick. See y'all in the mornin'." I quietly spoke, making sure that all our guns were on safety before turning off the lights.

Laying down against a couch cushion, I slid my cap down over my eyes, and prayed with all my might that this was all just a horrible, horrible nightmare. Slowly but surely, my mind grew fuzzy, and eventually I drifted off to sleep.

 **We're safe… For now.**

 **Loading next chapter in Walking Through a Dead Center: The Streets of Savannah.**

 **Stats:**

 **Ellis: 96% health. Carrying chrome shotgun, fire axe, medkit, pain pills.**

 **Coach: 70% health. Carrying rapid fire machine pistol, dual pistols, Molotov cocktail, medkit.**

 **Nick: 89% health. Carrying hunting rifle, desert eagle, pipe bomb, medkit, adrenaline shot.**

 **Rochelle: 56% health. Carrying uzi, baseball bat, bile jar, medkit.**

 **Useful tips:**

 **Spitters can spit acid. The longer you stand in it, the more damage you take, get out of the way before you get incapacitated!**

 **A Charger can incapacitate your entire team if you aren't careful. Once a Charger has you in its grasp, it won't let go until you or it dies.**

 **If you don't have a medkit, grab a defibrillator instead! When a teammate dies, you'll be able to revive them at half health.**


End file.
